It has been two years since I’ve put pen to paper (or fingers to keys in this case) to write out my thoughts on motherhood and mental health. Nose to the grindstone, I guess.
My son is within a few weeks of his fifth birthday, though, and I find myself wondering if the effects of postpartum run, not in an immediate spike then a downward turn that leads you back to your old self but rather in a straight line that continues indefinitely. Most days are filled to the point of blurriness and energy seems to be more and more of an elusive dream and yet I find motherhood to be equally as energizing as it is exhausting. (Eh, maybe 60-40) A feeling unlike anything I have ever experienced before. The physical and emotional drain is concurrent with a stronger mental determination to keep moving forward that is unshakable.
I recently likened motherhood to an energy source. Our precious offspring are in a constant state of growth and development requiring an unending need for attention, love, food, physical touch, warmth, safety, care and, essentially, energy. Where do they plug into this energy supply? You. Mom. You are their constant source. Like the cutest little leeches you’ve ever seen, your babies suck the vital force from your body and mind on a constant, daily basis. This is not to demonize motherhood as a fate worse than death. Rather, to affirm the feelings and struggles silently experienced by mothers in all corners of the world. Women feeling that even the mention of such struggles would somehow betray her love of her child. She swallows it back with her Lexapro and morning espresso.
Yet, despite this depletion, we find ourselves ferociously fighting on behalf of our babies without relenting. This is something that needs to be acknowledged, celebrated even. Not in the kitschy coffee mug way. I mean in substantial appreciation and understanding from others. You show up every day with your own battles being shoved aside. I’m fortunate to have a supportive circle of loved ones, but I know this is not the case for everyone. Not even the majority, sad to say. So, if you see a mommy with a sour expression on her face in the grocery line or looks like she “let herself go” because she chose leggings and a sweatshirt over sexy jeans and makeup, please give her some grace. She’s trying. She’s breaking generational curses. She’s lying awake at night thinking of homeschool curriculums and how she’s going to convince her four-year-old to eat dinner and pray they grow to be strong and healthy despite only eating protein bars and chicken nuggets and licking the Target carts. She has a little, beautiful, sparkling life that’s plugged in to her and all she wants in the world is for them to have a full battery.
Modern Mommie 